


In Everything I do

by talk_less_smilemore



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: An in-depth evaluation of Kevin's character, M/M, Swearing, Tattoos, please let me know if there is anything else you would like tagged
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:07:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23121466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talk_less_smilemore/pseuds/talk_less_smilemore
Summary: An in-depth evaluation, chapter by chapter, of all the things Kevin Day has learned from Neil Josten.(Please let me know if there are any triggers you would like me to tag - it's tricky as I am posting this fic on mobile while my laptop is repaired but I will do my best to change it! Thank you so much for reading!)
Relationships: Kevin Day/Neil Josten, Kevin Day/Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	1. A Little Bit Brave

You knew Neil Josten, once, when you were younger.

Not for long - none of them ever stayed for long if they weren't going to play Exy forever and ever and ever - but you still remember, because that was the first time you remember feeling brave. Brave the way you were _before_ Riko started chasing you with knives, _before_ Evermore was all you got to see of the world, _before_ you had to play Exy all day and night and day and night and day and night. Before the press, before the fame, before the-

No, you don't want to speak about that one yet. It's still a little raw, isn't it? It's always going to be a little raw.

But Neil Josten was barely eight, and he used a different name in that time. _Nathaniel Wesninski._ He had hair the kind of flaming red that reminded you of the days when you first thought you might want to play with fire. _Before_ those kinds of instincts were cut out of you and replaced with blind obedience.

Yes, his hair was quite red: red like the poppies you'd seen in your World War Two history books, red like the first spot of blood welling up from a papercut, red like strawberries growing ripe and full in the warm summer. You didn't really see his parents to judge how red _their_ hair was, but if his hair was really red, their hair must have been really _really_ red. Like an explosion, or something.

He had blue eyes, too, which were interesting. You'd never really seen blue eyes until then, not properly. Most people have a muddied, cloudy sort of colour, more like wet clay than properly blue, but if Nathaniel Wesninski's hair was red like the setting sun, then his eyes were blue like the sky behind the clouds, crystal clear but always, always burning. It was like he knew, even then, that every decision he was ever going to make would eat away at him a little bit, until there was nothing left of him, and consequently, nothing left of you.

Nathaniel Wesninski was also very, very loud.

"The Master likes it quiet," You remember saying to him. "We should practice some drills."

"Was your mum really the foundat- foundma- founderer of Exy?" He asked, stumbling over the word in the way that lots of eight-year-olds must. You wouldn't really know. You don't quite remember learning how to say _founder._

"Yes," Riko answered, because you were not supposed to be speaking, but Kevin's mum _was_ one of the founders of Exy, and Nathaniel Wesninski wasn't the first person to be curious about it. "So was the Master."

"Oh." He smiled. He had pretty teeth, you noticed. Even. Straight. "Do you guys live here all the time?"

"Yes," Riko answered. You would have been punched by that point - he did not like you asking so many questions - but he was not allowed to hurt new people until their parents said it was okay for them to stay. For ever and ever and ever.

"Like, all the time all the time? Every second and minute and hour and day and week and month and-" He paused to suck in a massive breath, "-and every year?"

"Yes," Riko answered, and stomped off with his racquet. "All the time all the time. I'm going to start practicing."

Nathaniel Wesninski smiled at you again, and it felt a little bit like you might have been making a friend.

Sometimes, you still wonder what it would have been like, if he had really stayed with the Ravens after his trial that day. He was good. Really good. He was good because he was fast, Riko said, and they needed fast people - not like you, Kevin, you're too slow, you can never keep up with me, it's really boring and I'm going to tell the Master. Watching him running up and down the Court with that red hair flaming behind him like a comet trail through space, you thought you would like to feel, even at eight years old, as brave as he seemed. Brave enough to ask questions, to smile, to ignore Riko and stand up for yourself.

And, because he made you feel brave, when Riko wasn't looking, you said to him, "I like your hair."

Nathaniel gave you a funny look, then. His blue eyes narrowed and he shifted his Exy racquet up to his shoulder, a little bit threateningly, like he might try to hit you with it, and he started shifting around, as if he might have wanted to run away from you. But in the end, he smiled again - he always smiled, you think, he smiled so much it didn't seem real for a person so amiable to exist - and he said, "Thank you, Kevin. I might dye it before I get older. It makes me look a bit _tooooooo_ much like my dad. And I want to be my own person, you know?"

"I know," You said, because you did know what wanting to be your own person, what wanting to be brave, felt like.

And then he did a very unbrave thing. Then he ran away.

Riko was almost as angry as the Master; Nathaniel Wesninski was going to become _his_ pet, his own little project to feed and water. So, until he found himself a better toy, until Jean fell privy to his little games and knives and secrets, you became the victim. It didn't ever cross your mind to blame Nathaniel, not really: what kid _would_ want to shunt all of their pain and suffering onto someone else, someone they only met once, a very long time ago? In fact, he barely crossed your mind. He was just another person who didn't make the cut, and that wasn't really such an important thing, because even if he _was_ really good at Exy, his parents might not have liked the Master. Or, more importantly, the Master might not have liked his parents.

So you forgot about Nathaniel Wesninski, and you forgot about his red, red hair, and even though you tried so desperately to remember, you forgot about how he had made you feel a little bit brave, even for just a few hours.


	2. Resilience

It wasn't until Riko made you get the tattoo that you thought about Nathaniel again.

Looking back, you hadn't exactly wanted it, but you hadn't _not_ wanted it, either. It had just been another one of Riko's crazy ideas, another day in the life of a Raven, another step towards the perfect Court.

Another way, perhaps, to control you.

Jean had protested: he had screamed, he had cried, he had bit and scratched and shown every ounce of the desperation that the both of you were feeling. The Master had simply locked him in a room until he stopped, and made you get your tattoo first as punishment for failing to control Riko's pets.

You had been calm up until you walked into The Master's office, but the sight of the tattooist's needles made your stomach turn. You were still young, even though you had spent a lifetime at Edgar Allen. The memory of your mother's arms around you had already been lost to years of Exy sticks slamming into your shoulders and back, over and over again.

You faltered, and Riko noticed.

"It won't hurt, Kevin." He had smirked, eyes cold and unfeeling. "We'll be like the Three Musketeers. The press will love it."

You didn't know who the Three Musketeers were, because you hadn't been allowed the privilege of a television yet, but you knew better than to say anything. You smiled and nodded and took a seat in the tattooist's chair, trying not to shiver at the feel of the rubber gloves brushing your skin, trying not to look at the dark number already on Riko's cheek. Trying to be brave.

Maybe it was the tattooist's dull auburn hair that made you think about Nathaniel. Maybe it was the fact that you were willing yourself to be brave. Maybe it was the pain flashing red-hot through your skin as soon as the needle spiked you. Whichever reason you think you might have had, as soon as you sat in that chair you were thinking about him for the first time in years: his burning hair and curious eyes and wicked smile.

The day you had met him had also been the day he had run, the day Riko finally snapped, the day you first really knew what betrayal was. You still aren't sure how much you actually blame Riko: the Master had been angry at him, so he was angry at you. Everybody has to have someplace to physically take out their emotions. And for Riko, if it wasn't on the Court, it had to be in the Nest. Those were the only two places in your lives. There were no other options.

And so, with each burning line scratched permanently into your skin, you remember Nathaniel Wesninski's brevity. Against all the odds, he had asked questions, he had smiled, he had persisted against Riko even in that short afternoon. There weren't many people you knew who were brave like that when you were younger.

You had thought, once, that your mother was brave. She had created and popularised a whole new sport, she had balanced a professional career and the upbringing of a child, she had made sure you were looked after even after she died. The Master hadn't had much sympathy for you when you first came to the Nest - you were just another mouth to feed - but, privately, you had always thought that it was a brave way to go.

That was, until Riko told you she'd taken an easy way out.

"Car crashes are rather easy to stage, don't you think, Kevin?" He'd snarled. "If she wanted to go out with dignity, she would have done it a different way, and maybe saved a tree in the process as well."

You had wanted to cry, of course. What kid wouldn't, when learning that the one parental figure in their life was a fraud? Was cowardly? In that time, you hadn't known bravery like Nathaniel Wesninski, but you hadn't known resilience, either. It had ruined you, just like the pain of the tattoo ruined you, just like every single word Riko ever spoke to you ruined you.

Nathaniel, though. You were certain that if it had been Nathaniel who was being hit in the back with an Exy racquet every day for years on end, who was forced to his knees from exhaustion after every game he played, he'd be able to stand back up. He'd know what _resilient_ meant, and if he didn't know, you were pretty sure that he'd go ahead and ask. If he had to get this stupid tattoo, he would probably dare the artist to put a fucking flower next to it as well, just to prove he could take the pain, just to show he could move on from temporary things, just to spite Riko.

More than once, you've caught yourself wondering why it had been Nathaniel that made such an impression on you. After all, you had only known him for a couple of hours on what you might have considered a very average day of your childhood after you joined the Ravens. There was just no explaining why he'd been so significant in your life. Why he made you realise how brave and resilient you could be, even while it seemed like everyone was against you, like there was no way out.

Maybe it was just a coping mechanism: a way to latch onto a quality that you desperately wanted and prove to yourself that your whole life didn't revolve around the Ravens. Maybe you just knew that you and Nathaniel were somehow inextricably linked to each other: that one day you were going to have to face him again, and tell him about every way he saved you from Riko Moriyama.

The tattoo is permanent. But so, in many ways, are you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Leave a comment if you enjoyed - I'm still thinking about the next few chapters, so all suggestions are welcome :)


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